


A Most Scandalous Marriage

by chll51



Series: in another life, you'd be mine [8]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Marriage of Convenience is my cup of tea, The Historical AU that no one asked for, also I'm on Braven drought, also there was a fic going around in similar time period that inspired me, but I'm feeling inspired, not historically accurate in anyway, or just fake relationships in general, so i thought why not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:57:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chll51/pseuds/chll51
Summary: Ignoring her question, “Do you have any idea how much I’ve suffered because of you?” he whispers against her ears. His breath sends a chill up her spine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I always wanted to write a historical AU for one of my OTPs, and after reading semele's you and me against the world, I got inspired. I will try to write something that's not a one shot. We will see if the result is decent. Lol  
>  This is also unbeta'd so mistakes are sadly mine.  
>  Note: his Grace is what you would call a Duke. His son would be Lord. Lady *insert name* would be for a lady from the lowest rank and miss is for those without ranks. At least that is what I read. Lol.

* * *

 

 

 _"don't say a word_  
_just come over and lie here with me_  
_cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see."_  
_edge of desire_

 

 

 

The chapel sits quietly, absent of worshipers or guests. When clock strikes twelve, Raven lets go of the breath that she doesn’t even know she’s been holding. Her chest pounds heavily, so she starts counting backward to keep the tears from coming. Perhaps it’s the best that no one’s here to witness her humiliation, minus Jasper, her footman, and the curate that was going to officiate the marriage.

She scoffs bitterly. The love of her life decides to jilt her without as much as a telegram, though can she really blame him? They have been ill suited from the beginning. She may have the wealth left behind by her late father, Jacapo Sinclair, but not many believe that his blood runs in her veins. For one thing, they look nothing alike, and he was never married. While that hurt growing up, Finn was the first one to truly be kind to her outside of her household. He remembered her birthday, gave her gifts and made her feel less alone.

The truth is there were signs that she did not pay attention to. The visits from him in recent weeks have become rarer, not to mention whispers from the ton that he has shown favor to another, someone more fitting and blond. She has a guess as to who it could be: the daughter of Vicar Griffin who just moved in. Finn has mentioned her in passing, and how their parents wants to make a match between them. He reassured her that nothing would come of that match. A foolish girl she was to believe him. She thought that if they could just elope, his parents will have no choice but to accept her. She should have known better than to hope; but when Finn knocked on her window late at night, and kissed her with such a fervor, it made her forget all her sensibility. He whispered poetry and offered her his protection. Granted he’s not yet an Earl. He however promised to do right by her, to love and cherished her. She didn’t care that there might be talks of impropriety if things did not go through and that her reputation might be ruined. She trusted him and loves him enough to push all those worries away.

“Miss Raven.”

Raven turns her head and spots Jasper approaching. She gives him a small smile. “I guess it's about time I go into hiding, seeing how I’ve been left at the altar and all.”

He laughs, relieves that she still has her good humor intact. “If you like, I can send Murphy to fetch Mr. Collins. He's always been frightful of him, so I’m sure it won't take long.”

“That’s because Murphy always like to set things on fire or threaten Finn in one way or another even if he does so with a smile.”

Jasper sighs. “Would you like more time—”

“He's not coming,” she says solemnly. The smile has long left her lips, now that enough time gas passed for the truth to sink in, even if it does sting. “Thank you for keeping me company and humoring me.”

The frown on his lips deepens. “He’s a fool to not see what’s in front of his eyes, Raven.”

“Perhaps.” Her expression softens after he referred to her by name. It's always been Miss Raven, but he was her friend since she was a babe. His parents work on the estate, and has a small cottage on the land. His mother practically raised them both as her father was often away on business. When Sinclair died, it wasn’t long before both of his followed. “Thank you.”

He nods. "I'll gather the carriage.”

 

 

 

 

When Bellamy Blake, the future Duke of Arkadia, turns two and twenty, he enlisted in the war against France. Like every other man of his age, the idea of fighting for one's own country was a noble and worthy cause, though that was not why he enlisted, tossed away half his inheritance for a regiment of his own, and threw his life into the line of the fire. No, the decision had rather been one without thought and consideration, and born out of selfishness and rebellion. He was in love with a girl. Isn’t that how all the great stories started? Lady Gina Martin, the daughter of a baron with very little wealth to her name, decided that their courtship was worth the five thousand pounds his father paid for her to reject him. The truth hurt, but it was worse finding out that everything he thought about her was a lie.

When he confronted his father, his grace did little to deny his involvement in the matter. He was rather proud that he managed to fix the problem, as if him falling in love with someone outside his rank was a crime. His grace couldn't let his only son marry a daughter of a lowly baron. It would have been blasphemous, and the public would have laughed. There were words exchanged that Bellamy was not proud of, and it ended somewhere between wishing he was never born into dukedom, and wishing he was dead.

War, as Bellamy came to find out, was not a better option. It got his father out of his life, yes, but it also made him face the harsh reality that he’d been sheltered and protected his whole life. He was dressed in the finest linens, went to the best school in the country, and was waited on hands and feet. He didn’t have to worry about anyone depending on him, at least not until he became a duke. In war, he had people to look after. Boys as young as sixteenth with dreams in their eyes looked at him to be their leader. They hoped that he can lead them away from death and devastation. Truth is, Bellamy was just like them. He had no idea what he signed up for and was unprepared for the task. Days became weeks and soon enough, they all blended together. He lost so many soldiers that he can no longer keep count of, but it was war and there was no time to grieve over them.

He thought maybe, he will die too.

Then the war ends, and he survives.

 

 

 

 

“What are you saying, Harper?”

Harper sighs. “I’m saying that you need to get marry.”

Raven feels her hands getting clammy, as her nerves knot together in the pit of her stomach. Did Harper miss the memo where she was jilted? Half of polite society did not nor did they stop reminding her of that shame whenever she runs into any of the mothers in the town, not that they need more ammunition, given her questionable parentage. “You cannot be serious.”

“Unfortunately the terms are laid out by your belated father that you must married before you turn five and twenty. Otherwise, all the estates and the money will go to the state.”

Raven closes her eyes, and exhales deeply. “Tell me there's a loophole to this,” she says, almost desperate. She has worked too hard and too long to lose everything over something as archaic as marriage. God forbid she becomes a spinster for the rest of her life now that she's branded unmarriageable. “Please.”

Harper looks resigned as she says, “My hands are tied, Miss Reyes. I tried everything, even—” She then looks over at Jasper. “The terms are very cleared. You must marry someone of status.”

That someone was supposed to be Finn before he left her stranded. Besides him, everyone else has stayed away with a ten foot pole. All the bachelors with status no doubt have been given warnings by their mothers; and the ones that do call upon her wants nothing more than notoriety. Raven then sinks deeper into her chair when she considers the direness of her situation. “Everyone thinks Finn has ruined me. Not to mention, I am the oldest of the ton. They need a wife that can deliver babies and take care of the children. I am not that person.”

“You have wit, brains and wealth your name. Surely there will be men who will overlook such a thing as a ruined reputation.”

“And let my life be controlled by said man?” She then straightens herself. “I would rather lose everything.”

“You just might,” answers Harper cheekily. She then pulls out a small invitation under the stack of papers. “There’s a ball coming up in the next few days. All the eligible bachelors and ladies will be there. Rumor has it that the future Duke of Arkadia is looking for a wife.”

“You’re talking about Bellamy Blake?” She recalls running into him when they were younger when her father used to have some business with the current duke. He was a tall boy with curly hair, freckles and beautiful tanned skin that is not usual around here. He always had a devilish smile on his face that had all the girls fanning themselves silly. She has never exchanged words with him, merely glances, but he has those deep brown eyes that can peer into the soul of whoever he is conversing with. She never did like that and always avoided him as much as she could. Thankfully their time together was always brief.

“I would not be so informal but yes, Lord Bellamy Blake is expected to make an appearance at the party and pick a couple of possible prospects. Why not throw your name in the ring?”

She snorts. “Surely you have heard the gossips.”

Harper shakes her head. “They're rumors—"

She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “Grounded in some truths.” There has been news in the papers each day about his roguish antics and the number of mistresses he has in his arsenal. Catching his eyes is the last thing she’d want. "And from what I've seen, I am far from his type. For one, I am not busty enough."

“You never know,” says Harper with a small smile. “Maybe he's searching for the right one.”

“Which I clearly am not,” grins Raven. “You can imagine my disappointment.”

“Raven.”

She cringes when Harper refers to her by name in a strict tone. “Do I have another choice?”

Based on Harper’s expression, _no_ is the definitive answer.

 

 

 

“Lord Bellamy Blake, his grace requests your presence in the reading room.”

Bellamy groans and rolls over on his back. He has a pounding headache thanks to the night prior. Perhaps he should not have drunken so much. In his defense, the girl had a beautiful face, and her bodice was low. She was soft and practically melted under his touch. He's after all only a man, who’s making up for lost time. In war, he had a singular goal, which was to survive. He breathed it, worn it on his sleeve, and fought with it in mind. He didn’t have time to think about his anger toward his father, or the sister that he left behind, or how many women he can bed.

Now all he has is time  Perhaps that is why he doesn't hate his daily routine much. It keeps him busy. His mornings comprise of learning about the estates and its businesses. He’s bored to tears but it has been emphasized that his grace won't around forever. While it doesn't matter to him if he ends up with nothing, he still needs to think of his sister. She will get marry some day, and she will need a huge dowry to ensure a suitable husband. She's the only thing that tethering him to this place, and keeps him from leaving. Thankfully though, he does find reprieve elsewhere when the sun goes down.

Once dressed, he lazily enters the reading room. His grace has his back to him with arms crossed. A vision of disapproval. When he first came home, he had thoughts that they could reconcile given the amount of time that has transpired. He was wrong as his homecoming basically consisted of his father speaking in short phrases. Sometimes through his own personal assistant. Talks between them are far and in between. “Father,” Bellamy says gruffly. He has learned to let go of his anger, but he still hasn't forgiven his father. He can’t decide if it’s for the past or for their current situation.

“Your reputation is making the round,” his grace says. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you’re trying to scare off any future brides that might humor the chance of becoming the next duchess.”

“One can only hope,” answers Bellamy, flashing the biggest smile he can conjure even if he doesn't see it. Someone told him once that people can sense expressions through voices. He hopes the message he sent is loud and clear. "But if a few bad behaviors deter marriages then half of polite society would have died alone."

“You will find a wife at the party.”

“I'm not five,” replies Bellamy. “I made you a promise that I would look after the estates and learn all I can. I will honor that promise. I did not however, promise to take a wife just because you want me to.”

“You are about to be thirty. It's time to stop playing around and ensure the lineage.”

“No.” His voice is firm, and he keeps his posture straight. “I wanted to marry one person and you chased her away. The truth is your grace, even if I do choose a bride, she will never be acceptable in your eyes. Therefore I would rather take a life of debauchery and singleton than to choose one in your favor. The lineage can continue with Octavia because I won't married for breeding purposes.”

When his grace turns around, Bellamy did not think he would feel a pang of guilt but he does. He has aged more since the last time they talked. He seems tired, greyer, and much older than a man of three and fifty. The pity dies quickly upon his next words. “Get a wife, or I will leave you penniless, out on the street, and Octavia without a dowry,” his grace says without an ounce of hesitation. “Your choice.”

Bellamy's hands grip his chair tightly till the knuckles turn white.

 

 

 

There are things proper ladies can and cannot do. For one, they can be pursued but never be the pursuer. They must be virginal but not prudish. It's a long list really, and Raven doesn't remember half of them, much to her governess’s disappointment if she's still alive.

Raven does remember the most important one: keeping emotions in check, which is something she doesn't do well. She doesn't know how to mince words and simper as she came out into the world screaming, which made sense. Her mouth always ran off before she can stop herself; and tonight started simple enough. She came to the ball in a subtle blue gown that barely left room to breathe. Her bosom is pushed up and out, courtesy of Echo. That girl knows how to disarm a man, and leaves him breathless. At least that's what she heard of Echo's past in passing. She only got to make one decision tonight, and that is the wig. She hated the way it feels on her head so she did not wear one. Her arrival for the most part was a quiet one, and she thanked her lucky stars because her nerves were eating her up inside. That's until she ran into Lady Calbury, who has two young daughters looking to pair up with either a Duke or a Marquess. She also happens to be the biggest gossiper in town. Just Raven's luck.

Raven tries to ignore her pestering and reminders of her shortcomings about Finn and her birth. Her fingers curl around her glass of wine, and she bites her tongue. She keeps her cool by reciting the alphabet even though she wants to explode. Then Lady Calbury mentions her father, and Raven sees red. She does the first thing that came to her head. She splashes her with the wine at her, and regrets nothing. The old woman was getting on her nerves and she deserves it.

Lady Calbury gasps and shrieks like she's been stabbed. Frankly Raven thinks it’s a tad dramatic; but she’s grateful for the distraction because in the midst of the commotion, she slips away.

 

 

 

 

It has only been more than an hour into the night and Bellamy swears that he has meet practically all of the eligible ladies so far. All of them beautiful, and agreeable. They all have proper education on how to be a high society lady that he's sure will make his father quite happy. If he was a dutiful son, he would probably pick one and call upon her tomorrow. Then he'll court her, marry her and together, they can live an amicable life with some heirs sprinkle here and there.

Except he vowed in front of his father that he would never take on a suitable bride; he would rather die. Actually he would rather not marry at all but Octavia's future depends on him. He made his mother a promise that he’ll look after her, and he failed her during his years at war. He will be dammed if he allows that to happen now that he's home.

Bellamy downs his wine, eyeing the exits when a commotion rings throughout the room. He recognizes Lady Calbury's scream. The woman has a high screechy voice that will surely sear into anyone’s brain upon contact. He remembers her coming up to him earlier with her two daughters, practically shoving them toward him. They were lovely ladies, very soft spoken, but he pities them for having her as mother; though what does he know about what makes a good parent anyway? His mother is ten feet in the ground and his father is well, his father.

Bellamy keeps his eyes at the commotion, not entirely sure what happened, but he's sure that she deserves it. The old woman always needle herself into other people's business and that bound to get her in trouble. Then he sees a familiar silhouette slipping away from the crowd. Curiosity gets the better of him so he too excuses himself and follows.

 

 

 

 

Raven's not entirely sure where she's going, just that she needs a breather. A moment to collect her thought so she ends up in the library of Lady Jaha. She puts a hand to her chest and tries to quiet the hatefulvoice in her head told her that shouldn’t have come,and how ridiculous it was to even entertain the thought that she might be able to snatch a groom. The way the mothers and their daughters stared at her, their thoughts of how she's unfit to be here were evident on their face. While the men did not look down on her status, she saw it on their face that she’d never be the one they'd bring home to their family. It is really a futile attempt afterall.

A woman without her virtue isn't worth much, even if her fortune is grand.

Sighing, Raven thinks about what it would means if she doesn’t find a groom. More than a couple hundred workers will be destitute, not to mention the safe haven that she created for the young ladies who wanted to be away from societal pressures and norms would vanish. Where will they go? Heck, where will she go? As if this isn’t disheartening enough, she can't figure out what her father's intentions were when he created the will. Did he want to leave her with nothing? It would seem too cruel to think of such thoughts because in her mind, he always had a plan and a reason.

When she hears footsteps approaching, she drags her gaze toward the door. A shadowy figure slowly comes into view. He has a broad frame, and wears what ought be the nicest coat she has ever seen. When she saw his face, she momentarily gasps. The one person she wanted to avoid is the one person that found her. God helps her.

“It has been awhile,” he says, flashing a devilish grin that reminds her of why the ladies flood to him. There's just something about him that she can't pinpoint, and it's not about his looks. He's beautiful, yes, with his dark curls, deep brown eyes and freckles, but he feels sharper around the edges, even with that damn smile on his face. His walk is sturdier, and confidence oozes from his steps. Bellamy seems to know it too, and probably uses it to his advantage. In a sense, he's the worst sort of rake. “Lady Reyes.”

She purses her lips, unamused. “I would prefer if you do not tease me.”

He cocks his head, feigning confusion. “Whatever do you mean?”

“I forget that you’re known for your sense of humor, among _other things_.” She then gives him a quick curtsy. “If you would excuse me—”

“And I here I thought we were just starting to get reacquainted."

“If my memory serves, we have never been acquainted.”

Bellamy smiles, noticing that she still hasn’t said his name. It’s weird to reconcile the young girl she was to the woman that’s standing in front of him in her blue gown with brown curls pinned back into a bun. Her cheeks are flushed, lips perfectly pink, and eyes that seem to harbor secrets. It’s not a stretch to say that she’s beautiful. Truth is, he has always thought Raven Reyes was a fascinating creature—girl, woman, he’s not sure which would be the most accurate to call her by—when he was young. She was a tiny thing but she was full of rage, and passion and she was never afraid to show it. He doesn’t remember much, except that she often played by herself, climbing in tree and skidding down hills using the things she found and built. She was smarter than most he knew and of all the girls his age, she impressed him the most. The last time he saw her, he was three and ten; and then now. He knows that there are gossips surrounding her, something along the line of being jilted. He would have to be daft not to hear, but he’s never one to heed what others say. He has his share of being caught in the crossfire, and he’s sure that most of the things that are whispered about her aren’t true. Even if they are, it doesn’t matter much. When he notices a blush creeps up her neck, most likely because she has notices his staring, he says, “Your words wound, Miss Raven.”

“Only wounded? I might have lost my touch then.”

He tosses his head back and laughs. It seems she didn't lose her nerves after all.

“As I was saying _Lord Bellamy Blake_ ,” says Raven, emphasizing his name in jest, now that she's gotten over the initial shock of him. “It would be unwise for us to be here without a chaperon. People might misunderstand.”

“I wasn’t aware that you cared much for social conventions.”

Raven scowls, and he thinks he feels a skip of his heart. “I'm only thinking of myself. I don't want the ladies of the ton hunt me down because I have ruined their chance of becoming a future duchess.”

He shrugs, and steps closer. “You know, when my father told me that I could find a wife here,” he drawls softly, “I thought he was becoming senile—” He then stops right in front of her, and looks down with a teasing smile. “But maybe he has a right idea after all.”

They're closed enough that Raven could feel the heat radiating off his body, and something in her stirs. It’s different from Finn, but she feels lightheaded all the same. She slows her breath and tries to regain her composure. Then she lifts her head and locks eyes with him. If he's trying to fluster her, she'll be damned if she lets him have the upper hand; so she scoots closer, purposely drawing her hands near his coat. “You know my lord—”

“Bellamy. Lord makes me sounds like a stuffy old man.”

She chuckles, a low hum in the back of her throat. “I've always wanted to see what it is about you that dazzle the ladies. I mean they practically throw themselves at you, and it can't just be over a title. The papers literally sing praise of your conquests, but there has to be more to it than that,” says Raven in a low, sultry voice that quickens his pulse. She then runs a hand up the collar of his silky coat. “And I think—”

Have her eyes always been this warm and inviting, he wonders then looks down at her lips, which are just perfectly pink, plump and ready to be kissed. As if noticing his thought, she licks them and bites down. “The papers have grossly overestimated your ability, my lord.”

Bellamy blinks, dumbfounded, as she pushes herself away. Oh my, Bellamy thinks, she has one over him. A jolt of excitement runs through him. “I beg your pardon?”

Raven can't believe that she lets this sort of man fluster her in the first place. “Lord Bellamy Blake, I would say it's been a pleasure but that would be a lie,” she says. “If you excuse me, I’ll be taking my leave now.”

She curtsies quickly and leaves before he could collect his thoughts or retort. All he can think is, yeah, he definitely was not wrong. Raven Reyes is definitely a fascinating creature.

 

 

_\- tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

 

* * *

 

 _Shirt hanging off my shoulders_  
_Both hands wanna hold you_  
_So baby, what's the hold up?_

 

 

Despite her best efforts to avoid him, Bellamy Blake seeks her out at her estate and requests her company for a mid afternoon carriage ride. She was surprised, given how their last meeting went. She practically insulted him, which makes her somewhat proud. If only her governess could see her now, she would clutch her pearls, aghast and embarrassed. Shock aside, anyone with sane mind would refuse, which is what Raven planned to do until Harper takes her aside and asks her to humor him.

 _One chance_ , Harper has said, almost pleading really and she is never the begging type. Sighing, Raven could not deny her request, and begrudgingly agrees. Though honestly, she hasn't gotten much of an option. She has spent the last few days pouring over the will, trying to find a loophole and so far, she is unsuccessful. Still, she wants to make it known that she is here against her will, so she puts on her best frowning face.

“Miss Raven,” he says with that damning smile. “If you frown any deeper, you might just have it for a permanent expression.”

She purses her lips together, unamused. “I'm merely trying to figure out what it is that you’re trying to accomplish lord Bellamy Blake—"

"Bellamy, please. I would rather not be reminded of my father."

"As I was saying, there are plenty of other young ladies who would love this carriage ride other than—”

“And that's precisely why I like to be in your company,” he finishes, interrupting her once more. Her brows wrinkle together in dissatisfaction, which is something that he rather likes strangely enough. He's not often in the company of those who makes it known their honest feelings regarding him. Perhaps that's why he finds her intriguing because she can't hide her distaste for him. “I enjoy your bluntness, and obviously, you’re beautiful and quick witted. I can't imagine a better way to spend my Sunday.”

As much as she tries not be swayed by his words, her cheeks turn pink, and her ears feel hotter. “I beg your pardon?”

Chuckling, “Don't get soft on me now,” says Bellamy in a teasing tone. “I'm sure you've heard this before in your life. I can't imagine any man spending time in your presence and not see how much life there is in you. You shine when you want to.”

She's taken back by his candor. The only man that has ever called her beautiful was Finn and well, that turned out to be a disaster. Bellamy doesn't seem any differently if the gossips are to be believed. “Surely you jest.”

He tilts his head, skimming her face. The gesture makes her cheeks turn pinker. “I assure you that I am not,” he says; his voice is thick with emotion. “You interest me, Miss Raven. Believe it or not, it's up to you.”

 _One chance_ , she thinks. “Why are you telling me this?”

He stops smiling, and leans slightly forward. “Are you always this distrustful?”

“Only toward one with a reputation of ruining ladies.”

“I only ruin the reputations of those who wish to be ruined. We are all consenting adults.” His brows quirks in interest. “And I thought you weren't the gossip type.”

“I thought I was being honest.”

“Touché,” replies Bellamy, leaning back into the seat. “Since we are being honest, yes, I do have mistresses. I am not currently attached to anyone in particular, and I’m sure you've known noblemen who have mistresses even though they’re otherwise engaged. The ladies that surround myself with do not care for their reputations, or marriage proposals, and incidentally, are also the ones that my father disapproves of, which is really the icing on the cake.”

“In other words, you're using them to anger your father?”

He chuckles. “No, that was just an added benefit.”

That explains why he's here with her. Raven doesn't know why she isn't more offended or angry. She would hate to think that it's because she has begun to tolerate him. As much as she hates to admit it, she has begun to see his appeal. He's frank, and seems earnest in his intention. Plus, he has this annoying tendency to make her feel like she's important, which really grates her nerves. The last thing Raven wants or needs is to let Bellamy Blake make her feel important. “Is that why you’re here with me?”

He studies her expression, then asks, “Do you have such little faith in yourself that you think no man would be in your presence without an ulterior motive?”

“Do you always change topic once it gets uncomfortable?”

The corners of his lips twitch briefly. “He doesn't know we are here together. I did not tell him where I went. I would not do that without your knowledge and consent.”

“I see.”

“My turn,” he says, “You never answered my question about your distrust toward men, or maybe it's just me that you’re weary of?”

“You think awfully high of yourself.”

“The added benefit of being a Duke’s son. I assure you, only in front of you that I am like this. I've been told I’m quite agreeable on other occasions by other people.”

“I trust who I trust, and I make no exceptions. Disappointments are also less that way too.”

His eyes skim her face. “So Finn Collins—"

“Is someone that I used to know.”

“We studied at Oxford together, which I'm sure you know. I did not think he was attached to anyone in particular,” says Bellamy. “If he was the one that let you go, then he's an even bigger idiot than I thought and my opinion of him isn't high to start with.”

Raven laughs, something she hasn't done since that ghastly will reading and what happened at the ball with Lady Calbury at his irate on her behalf. “I’m afraid that you're wrong. I am the one that's not good enough for him. He's smitten with someone else.”

“Ah yes, Lady Clarke.”

“Now who's the one that’s into gossip?”

He smirks. “We make quite a pair with our scandals combine, don't we?"

"I'm afraid so."

"I heard that Lady Clarke had a successful debut. I haven’t had the chance of being acquainted.”

Raven takes in a sharp breath, trying to maintain her composure. Clarke's name is still a sore spot, even if it's not her fault that Finn chose her. “She is rather beautiful and amicable. I would have done the same thing if I was Finn.”

“No, you wouldn't.”

“What makes you so sure, m'lord?” she tosses back, unable to hide the bitterness from her tone. She knows that her anger is directed at the wrong person but some part of her thinks that he can accept this side of her even if their brief interactions haven't proven as much. He makes her feel something. “Do you think you know me just from the brief conversations that we share, or is it because of your fascination with me that puts some sort of image into your head of who you think I should be? I hate to disappoint you, but I am just like anyone else.”

Ignoring her barbed comment, “You, Miss Raven, are not like anyone else,” he says quietly, and looks as if he's choosing his words carefully. There was so much conviction in his tone that almost made her believe him. “I think you’re the sort that loves loyally and whole-heartedly. I don't think you would lead anyone on if you have no affections for them. I could be wrong, and it would not be the first. But I don’t think so. I see you, Raven. You shine so bright that anyone who doesn’t see it must be blind.”

How is it possible that this man can be so aloof one moment, teasing the next and completely unreserved in his candor next, she wonders, growing annoyed that she can't figure him out, or precisely what he wants with her.

“Shall I help you out, and call upon her instead?” continues Bellamy as she stares. He scratches his chin, thoughtfully. “If all her family want is a title and wealth, mine by far outrank his.”

Raven doesn't doubt that one bit. His title has been inherited through generations, going far enough to be related to royalty once upon a time. She really did consider his help, but then what would that accomplish? Sure Clarke would be out of the way, but there will just be another in her place. “Why would you do that?”

“I am in need of a wife, and am quite bored.”

“Those are not good reasons to get marry.”

“I’m sure that if she is half as nice as I had heard, we will get along just fine. Marriage can be one with mutual respect and tolerance. Love is not a necessity for it to flourish.”

He's speaking as if he's planning lunch, all nonchalant as if it's not one of the biggest decisions of his life. It can't just be because he thinks she's somewhat amusing. She finds some people amusing herself. That doesn't mean she would sacrifice her future for them. “I'm sure that you can take Lady Clarke away from Finn. However I cannot in my good conscience recommend so. What happens if she falls in love with you? That would be a terrible life to have, to be in love with one's husband who feels nothing but friendly affections toward oneself."

He smiles. “So you think I am loveable?”

She rolls her eyes because of course, he would see it as a compliment. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Very much so. I’m afraid,” says Bellamy, with a laugh. “I desire a marriage free life. However it might not be possible. Therefore what’s better than to help you out, and help myself as well?”

“I still don't understand why you would want to for my benefit.”

“I thought I made it quite clear,” he says, feigning annoyance. “I find you interesting, Raven. Be it romantically or otherwise. I’m practical enough to know the match will most likely benefit myself more than you. I’m getting a wife and you get well, Finn Collins, which as I've mentioned, you can do better. But feelings are fickle like that, I supposed. You can't help who you grow attached to or love.”

She laughs, then an idea strikes her. She takes a deep breath for what she says next might just make her faint. “You said you need a wife?”

He nods.

“Marry me.”

Now that, he wasn’t expecting at all. It's a good thing he's already sitting or otherwise, he'd have fallen.

“Marry me,” repeats Raven. “Bellamy Blake. Be my husband.”

Counting the last, this is the second time Raven has made Bellamy speechless.

 

 

 

 

The news of Bellamy Blake sending Lady Clarke flowers spread through town like wild fires. Gossip columns speculate on how it was possible that Lady Clarke managed to make an acquaintance with the future Duke when they have never been seen together. 

Raven just tossed the papers in the trash. She got the answer she needed, and she pretends that it's not disappointment she tastes in her mouth.

Maybe she was wrong about Bellamy Blake after all.

 

 

 

Bellamy rubs his temple tiredly after taking his last sip of whiskey. “Miller, stop pacing so much in front of me. You are giving me a headache.”

Miller rolls his eyes. “If you're tired, you should be home instead at this bar, where there are alcohol, which won't help your headache one bit.”

“No, I need to clear my head.”

“And you choose to be at a bar full of drunks? Why not go to one if your lady friend's house?”

Bellamy scowls.

“Alright, spit it out Lord Bellamy Blake,” Miller's face almost cracks at his proper title. “What did your father do this time?”

Shaking his head, he says, “I was proposed to.”

Miller stops pouring and stares, slacked jaw. “Well I'll be damned,” he says, laughing. “Who's the young lady that asked for your hands, and does she realize there are better options out there?”

“Very funny,” says Bellamy, wrinkling his nose. “You'll need it when I’m the duke.”

“If I ever worry about the things I say to you, I would not be standing here right now,” answers Miller, which is true. They have known each other for quite some time and Miller has never once cared for his title. He treated him like every other patron, which Bellamy is most thankful for. “So a young lady proposed.”

He nods.

“Is she beautiful?”

Again, he nods.

“Can she handle you?”

 _More than anyone he has ever met_ , Bellamy silently answers. She unnerves him, but more importantly, she sees through his deflections. “Yes.”

“Then I don't know why you’re sitting here instead of telling her yes.”

Bellamy couldn't explain that either.

 

 

 

 

It's been two weeks since the disastrous proposal when Jasper races in to tell her that there's a caller at the house. Her first thought is Finn. It was instinctual of course, as he used to be the one that did. Her sensible side tells her that it's probably Bellamy coming here to reject her proposal in person. If she's a bit honest, she’s irritated. He practically spend the whole ride telling her that she interested him, yet when she proposed that they should get marry, he shut down like a clam. Preferably, she would like a rejection in writing now that she thinks about it. Less humiliation that way. “Is something wrong, Miss Raven?” Japser asks, seeing her worried face. “Do you feel unwell?”

“No, I'm alright,” Raven replies, putting down her notebooks and dusting herself. “You can bring him here.” Then she waits as Jasper goes to fetch him. The minutes stretch longer than she thought as her nerves grow and her courage shrinks. Maybe she should have lied and told Jasper that she didn't feel well because getting rejected again in the span of six month is more than she can take. No, she reminds herself, that was a proposal out of desperation. It has no meaning and therefore the rejection will also have no meaning.

“Miss Raven.”

A small jolt runs through her at the raspiness of his voice. She doesn't remember it being this deep either. Inhaling a small breath, she turns around. “Lord Bellamy Blake,” greets Raven cautiously. She notices that the green in his coat really brings out his brown eyes. “What can I do for you today?”

He cringes at the iciness of her tone.

"Or are you bored and looking for someone to entertain you?"

He scratches the back of his neck like a kid got caught doing something bad. “I realized that I never gave you an answer the other night—”

“I thought you were quite clear in your rejection," she interrupts bitingly. She feels incensed that he would have the decency to stand in front of her and act as if it's such a small thing between them. “As I heard, you sent your favor to Lady Clarke and drove around with her on a _carriage_ ride or was that not what happened?” 

A blush creeps up his cheeks. He's definitely going to pay for this as she's not making it any easier.  “Yes. I did.”

“Then I think there's nothing we need to discuss—” When she tries to move past, he holds her back.  “Raven—”

“Bellamy.”

He doesn't let go. “Please give me at least a few minutes to explain myself. Then if you want me to leave, I would gladly do so.”

She purses her lips then concedes with a small nod. Harper's words echo in her head.  _One chance._

He smiles with relief and releases her from his grasp. “What I told you was not a lie. I find you utterly charming and interesting for reasons I do not know. Not being able to speak after has nothing to do with you. There's something that you need to know so that you can make an informed decision about whether or not you would really want to marry me.”

She nods.

“The reason I need a bride is so I ensure my inheritance and my sister’s dowry.”

“I thought she already has one.”

“My father said that he would relinquish her dowry, along with the rest of my inheritance if I refuse to get marry, and I must do so with someone of respectable status.”

She hears what he doesn’t say. “I see.”

“If I say yes to you, you would have to be the one providing for my sister. I’m not sure such a burden would benefit you," explains Bellamy. Desperation etches across his face. "So you see, I did not reject your proposal out of want but rather I couldn't accept knowing that I kept something like that from you, and yes, I will admit. My actions after were not in the best light but please believe that I did not do it out of ill intent. I wanted to help you get Finn back."

She bites her lips, then says hesitatingly, “I also must confess as well. It seems that we are in the same boat. I must marry before my five and twenty birthday as well or I will lose everything. Therefore my proposal was not of pure intent.”

He laughs at the turn of event.

Therefore I believe that we are both in the same boat.”

He wrinkles his nose in good humor. The smile has not left his lips. “Yes, I believe so. However there's another thing I must confess.”

Oh lord, she thinks. How many confessions is he looking to unload?

“If you recall our conversation from previous nights, I said that I do not believe love is necessary for a successful marriage. I don’t know what your expectations are but I still firmly believe that and—”

“I don't need your love,” Raven says, rushed and breathless before she can fully process what she's saying. She just knows that she’s so closed to solving her problem that if she could convince Bellamy Blake that they’re looking for the same thing, a marriage of convenience, then everything would be okay. She wouldn’t have to let people go or lose everything she has worked so hard for. It's not like she's a young girl who has her head in the clouds and thinks marriage is a wonderful union between two people who love each other. No, Finn robbed her of that. She knows full well what she can and cannot have, and she can be happy with Bellamy. “To be honest, I have never put much stock into marrying for love.”

“Oh?”

There's something in his tone that she can't quite place but she quickly shakes it from her thought. "We both are on the same page regarding this marriage if it is something you are interested in. I am not worried about providing for your sister as she too will become one of my own.”

He has an unreadable expression on his face, and it makes her worried for a second that he might reject her proposal. "Then let's get marry."

She has never felt so relieved in her life, except maybe that one time she skidded down the hill and survived. 

"I should warn you that my father might try to stop us and he might succeed."

Her heart drops. "What do you mean?"

Sighing, he continues, "He's part of the House of the Lords and therefore can annul our marriage if he wishes. He just needs enough votes and believe it or not, he has enough favors from the other lords to make it so. I'm afraid that he could very well stop this given his preference to titles."

Raven is not surprised. She has heard about his prejudice against any not born with titles in their blood coming in contact with his children. The only reason he tolerated her when she was younger is because of the businesses he did with her father. "He can't do that." She has come this far and giving in isn't what she going to do. "I won't let him."

He holds her by the shoulder. "This is what we are going to do. You will meet with my father because he will request a meeting. Do whatever you need to convince him of our union because he will try to persuade you otherwise. Leave the rest to me."

She nods.

 

 

 

_-tbc_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is semi rushed and wasn't edited to the best of my abilities.  
>  Turns out, this won't be a 3-parter after all since I'm not entirely sure I can fit everything in.  
>  Anyway, thanks for reading.  
>  C/C are always welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

_Something in you lit up heaven in me_  
_The feeling won’t let me sleep_  
_Cause I’m lost in the way you move, the way you feel_

 

 

 

 

One of the estates that Bellamy stands to inherit is larger than she remembers. There are apparently over a hundred servants for it alone and there are so many rooms—she was told at least fifty—that makes her wonder what it must have been like to grow up at a place like this. He must have been lonely when his grace is out on business. Strangely enough, she can't remember a sad kid, only a cocky one. The first time she saw him, he was jumping out of a tree and skinned his knee along the way. His servants almost had a heart attack. He never cried when they treated his wound with alcohol, and instead smirked like it was a victory wound. When their eyes locked and he saw her frowning in disapproval, he grinned wider with confidence that was not common in any two and ten year old that she knew. Raven had an inkling then that Bellamy Blake would grow up to break many hearts in his path. She was not wrong.

“So you're the girl my son wants to marry.”

Raven turns around and sees a commanding grey haired Lord, who while may be old, but makes the room shrinks in his presence. She doesn't question where Bellamy gets his confidence from. They both carry themselves with air of aristocracy, and even have the same expressive eyes, she notes before curtsying. “Your grace.”

He signals her to sit. "When my son told me that he found someone to marry,” he drawls as he makes his way to his chair. “I must confess, I did not expect Sinclair's own daughter.”

She sees the way he gives her a quick scan, and can guess what he's thinking. It helps that Bellamy has warned her prior to today's meeting. _Be brave and stand tall,_ he said as he sent her off. “I am just as surprised as you are that we got reacquainted. I guess fate puts us at the right time and right place.”

He laughs, a deep rumble in his belly; the sound reminds her of Bellamy's. “I have heard quite a bit about you, Raven. Smartest girl in your class. Graduated with honors. Since the death of Sinclair, you have more than double your wealth. You would make any man a happy wife if they aren't intimidated by your intelligence."

"Not including your son, I presume?"

"There's that intelligence I was talking about. It makes sense why my son is infatuated with you."

"I assure you the feeling is mutual."

"However I cannot accept this marriage. You must realized that he's using you to get back at me, don't you?”

She blinks innocently. “For what pray tell, could he be trying to do?”

“I hope that he has told you of my ultimatum.”

“He has, your grace." Raven doesn't know why she feels the urge to defend him. It bothers her that he had such little consideration for Bellamy. “He is more reputable than you give him credit for. He would never lied to me just to get back at you. It's one of the things I like about him.”

“Quick witted as well, he has chosen well.”

She knows better than to think his words meant anything other than to patronize. “I am merely telling you what you already know, or if you didn't, then you should have.”

“Tell me Raven, what is it about my son that you like?” asks his grace; his eyes scrutinize. “Because you're not the first one with aspirations to be a duchess.”

She holds herself taller and stands straighter, recalling Bellamy words. “Please excuse my rudeness as I was not bred like other ladies of your acquaintances, but I would like to make myself clear. I am not marrying Bellamy for the duchess title.”

He smiles.

“Status has never been an important factor in me choosing a spouse. In fact, Bellamy stands to lose everything by marrying me if I understand correctly.” She pauses to watch for a reaction. He shows none. “As for your other question, it has to be him.”

“Why?”

“He's honest, and I find that to be a very good trait in a man,” she says calmly. He's not the first person to accuse her of being a social climber. He won't be the last, and she sees no reason to give him the satisfaction of watching her squirm. “You don’t have to believe me, but I like your son as he is, with or without your wealth and your so called title. I have enough inheritance to take care of us both, and Octavia.”

“You would do all that for Bellamy?”

It's probably her most honest answer when she says, “Over and over again.”

He stares at her for a few minutes. His face is blank and she feels herself tending. “You remind me of my late wife,” he says finally. “She was a headstrong, independent and lovely woman. Kind of like you. I met her, fell in love and proposed. We married within a week of meeting. Never had the chance to let her know all the things that came with being a duchess. She wasn't from here and people, they liked to talk. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.”

She's not sure if he wants her to respond or not, so she stays quiet, merely nodding to let him know she's listening.

“I thought that my title could protect her, and it did from certain things, but she was very much isolated, and it ate at her. She was a great duchess, mind you. She took her duties very seriously. Did all sorts of charity on top of caring for two young kids. But she never felt like she belonged. People couldn't get past her complexion. I can't say that I wasn't to blame as well. I thought she just needed time. When Bellamy was three and ten, she died. I don't think he ever got over it. Octavia was luckier. She was a lot younger and didn't see the pains her mother went to. I did not know how to be a good father after she died.” He takes a pause to recollect himself as his voice shakes. “I did not know to grieve and take care of two young kids so I sent them to boarding school and placed them in someone else’s care. If you ask Bellamy, he would say that I’m still lacking in that aspect. After my wife, I promised myself that I would never allow my children to marry someone out of their station.”

His logic, while flawed, makes sense. “I’m sure if you explained it to him, he would—”

“When he was one and twenty, he got engaged—”

“Lady Gina Martin.”LLP

He nods. “Yes, I’m sure you heard that I ruined the engagement by giving her five thousand pounds. In reality, she was compromised by someone else, and wanted to tell Bellamy. I couldn't let that happen. He is different from me. He would marry her and claim the child as his because it's the right thing to do. I cannot allow my son to live such a life, so I paid her five thousand pounds and got her out of town to give birth. I made sure that he would never find out.”

All his words sound like excuses, and like someone else she used to know. “He did not need protection. He needed the truth, and you took that away from him.”

"You don't agree with my actions?"

"No m'lord. I don't think you did it for his benefit, but rather your own. You did not want a scandal on your hands so you reasoned that it was for his sake."

“Perhaps.”

"You can't take away his choice to decide, and claim that you did so out of love. It's belittling and frankly selfish. I don't know if you have met your son lately, but he is a thoughtful, caring and deeply empathetic man. All he ever wanted was your approval and instead of giving it, you want to control him using his own devotion and love for his sister. That’s not love.”

The duke’s smile stays pressed on his lips, making Raven feels like she just went through a test. “I guess I cannot count on you to stop this marriage.”

“If you stop us, we will just keep trying it until it tires you out.”

“Is that a threat?”

“On the contrary, I’m letting you know the extend of our determination to be married. We cannot stop you, your grace, but we will try.”

If he's disappointed by her answer, he doesn’t show it. He looks impressed instead, which makes her wonder if Bellamy has misunderstood his father somehow.

 

 

 

 

One of the fondest memory Bellamy has of his mother involves him being sick in bed when he was nine. He remembers coming in and out of consciousness, seeing the worried face of his mother hovering over him, her hands running down his face with cloths and generally, calling his name lovingly. Prior to this, they did not spend a lot of time together because she had her charity work and events that required her presence. She was there for him when time allowed, and a bit after Octavia’s birth. However, he often spent time with servants and personal butlers, and his mother, like his father, were more of silhouettes that come in and out of his life. Sometimes, he thinks he can remember the sound of her voice lulling him to sleep when he was struggling, though he thought he might have dreamt of that. Those four days that he was sick though, he learned a lot about her. She was resilience to say the least. She carried everything inward and hardly complained about her hardships. She liked to laugh a lot, because he often tried to tell her little jokes. She also loved his father, never said a bad word about the man, and always had a lovesick look on her face when she discussed about their first meeting, how he swept her off feet, and how magnetic he was. She said, and Bellamy quoted, “It was like the whole earth’s magnetic pull brought us together.” His father sounded impulsive, free-spirited and brave in her stories. They pieced together a man who was often away. When she passed, his father became more distant, and the rest is history.

Bellamy wonders why he's plagued with thoughts of his mother now. Maybe it's because he feels unsettled at the impending marriage that he knows his mother would disapprove of if she was still alive. The last time he proposed, he did it out of love. He remembers the feeling well, the adrenaline and rush of happiness unlike anything he has ever felt in his life. It was a high that he never wanted to be freed from because he thought that he had found someone who understood him. He thought his story might rival that of his parents. He was wrong, but he doesn't regret falling in love with her. It was like he told Raven. One cannot help who one feels attached to.

Tossing to his side, he glances at his companion that has snuggled her body closer for warmth. He runs his fingers through her dark curls. Maybe he really does have a type, thinking how she reminds him of someone else. A flashback of her delicate kisses replays in his head, tugging the strings of his heart. He shakes his head, pushing away the sudden thoughts. Now isn’t a time to think about that. He then drags his eyes away from her face and slides off the bed without waking her up. He releases a shallow breath, trying to ease the burden that has settled in his chest.

“Leaving already?” she says, disrupting the silence. Her sweet voice slips deep into his consciousness and temporarily clouds his mind. Her tone along with its perfect clear as day pitch almost traps him in its familiarity.

"Lady Laura, I did not mean to wake you."

"You're slipping out in the middle of the night." She  then tilts her head to the side, pursing her lips together in a dissatisfied manner. “What's wrong?”

“I'm getting married,” he says quietly, after finished getting dressed. He feels like an ass but it's better to rip the bandages off than wait for later. "Two days from now.”

“I see.” She pulls the blanket closer to her. “And your new wife would like you to not have any mistresses?”

Raven and him had not discuss the details regarding their marriage, and while she is reasonable enough not to demand fidelity on his part, he doesn't wish to engage in something that will pain her. Though, she did confess to not caring for his affections. Regardless, it's still a marriage, and he would like to respect the institution of it. “I think it's better if we just make a clean break.”

"Am I your last loose end?" They have discussed this scenario before, and he would deny its possibility until now. Things change. Still, she gives him a small, half hearted smile. “I don't know what to say, Bellamy.”

He doesn't either. “If we run into each other—”

“I will be perfectly amicable and estranged,” finishes Laura. She's not new to formalities. “She's lucky.”

Bellamy remains quiet, only gives her hands a small, reassuring squeeze before he takes his leave. A small wave of nostalgia passes through him. It's strange to go from being lovers to perfect strangers. After all, he has known her now for two years. They met by chance at a party after her husband passed and formed an odd friendship that later turned intimate. She was beautiful even though she was ten years his senior. He can't remember who initiated it but neither regretted the morning after. They often confided in one another and sometimes, he just held her as they slept. He doesn't think it's fair to keep her company and put her through the gossip mills.

Sighing, he sets out to meet Raven at their appointed place, an inn on the outskirts of town.

 

 

 

_-tbc_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized that the quotes in the beginning have nothing to do with the chapter itself. Lol. They're more of what inspired the chapter.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read. I am hoping to finish this story by chapter 7 or shorter. We shall see. 
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd. So all mistakes are unfortunately mine.


End file.
